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Da Hunger Games! By TheDannoh403
Alright what's goin' on "doods" It's Danny back again for a brand new story! Hope this goes over well with yall. It's a hunger games story based off of two really awesome minecraft hunger games playing youtubers: Mitch and Jerome. And yah, HUNGER GAMES! (Title suggestions anyone?) (DISCLAIMER: THIS IS NOT A MEROME SLASHFIC!) *shudders* merome.... Also, to Mitch and Jerome and Company, plz don't sue me I fan. Chapter....I already forgot. Mitch's POV Sunlight streams in through the window of my bed room. The glass shatters the beams of warm morning light and it scatters across my small room. I reluctantly open one eye a fraction and take in the sight of my room. Old clothes lay all throughout the 16 square foot space. A simple dresser containing most of my belongings leans against one wall. The dusty window towards the ceiling refracts any image of the outside. I pull myself out of the extremely uncomfortable mattress and stretch off the last remnants of sleep. I glance around at the entirety of my living space and open my door. Morning air greets me. I sigh inwardly, remembering a time when I would open my door to a bigger house, to a smiling...living family. I brush a small tear from my brown pupiled eye, an action that has, over the years, become somewhat normal for me around these times. "These times...what's so special about these times again?" I mutter to myself, scratching the side of my tired face. Reaping Day! It's Reaping Day! My eyes widen and I'm suddenly a lot less tired. I glance at the small clock above my bed. "ONE THIRTY?!" I pratically scream at myself, slapping myself in the forehead. I throw on the nearest outfit I can find, a red and black checkered sweatshirt and jeans. Not exactly my sunday best...well, maybe it is. I can't even tell anymore. Before I run down to the town square, I make sure to grab my pendant, a small, cheap necklace that my mother gave me before she died. I slip it down over my head and dash outside and down the street. Chapter....3? This keeping track of chapters is hard. (Jerome's POV)! The sun shifts through the early morning branches of the tree I lay curled up underneath. I shield myself from the sun's rays and push myself to my feet. My extremely expensive axe lays beside me. I pick up the handle, admiring the shining cyan blade made of pure diamond. I smile, remembering how I won this in the yearly lumber cutting competetion. I look over my shoulder at the tree I had been chopping down yesterday. It had been a long day, but if we don't supply the lumber for our lords and masters, who will? We had all been working in the orchards until well after dark, and I must've passed out right at the base of this tree. I look around. "Where...is everyone?" The mill is eerily quiet. Where are all the workers, toiling endlessly for hardly any pay? Oh...right. Reaping Day. The day that took my sister away from me. Great day. Nevertheless, I jog home quickly, entering the house that feels almost too empty. I run up to the clothes room, which has slowly taken over the house, I'd clean if I really cared. Problem is, I don't. I grab an old thread bare suit and throw it on, the tie not even straight. I hoist my ask onto the kitchen table, wiping a smudge off her blade with the cleanest rag I can find. This axe alone is more valuable than my entire house, but I would never dream of selling it. I won this in one of the most difficult challenges of my life, competing in the national wood chopping tournament. It was the only thing I'd ever won. I sigh, remembering the happier times of my life, and shove my hands into my pockets, whistling as I walk calmly towards the district square. Chapter....Q? The Reaping, (Mitch's POV) I rush down the streets, the back of my unzipped sweatshirt flying behind me. I live right on the outskirts of District 3, and it's quite the trek to the town hall. I rush past all of the factories churning out circuits and wires and other crap I never understood. Luckily for me, District 3 has been doing it's best to become one of the elite "Career" districts; training all it's children each year, throwing weapons into the hands of little children and teaching them to murder. It's horrid, is what I thought. The kids who don't get reaped into the games end up being sycopaths eventually. Then again, more prepared fighters mean more wins, more wins means more food. More food. Something that it's hard to get. Panem is going down, and it's going down hard. Food is running low, soon even the pampered capitol citizens will be starving. I chuckle a bit at thinking about all those weirdies, with their insane hairstyles and lavish clothing, laying on the street, begging for food. The thought adds a bit of spring to my step. I arrive at the town square (circle, to be precise), around 1:58 and get checked into the pit of scared and frightened kids. They didn't ask for this. We didn't ask for this. This yearly torture brings out the worst of my depression. I drop my eyes, avoiding the line of sight of the people who might have their entire life stolen from them in almost 5 minutes. These thoughts persist as the capitol escort takes the stage, a very peculiar man named "Chim" He purposely knocked out one of his front teeth. His seems to be overdoing it especially this year, with a subdued brown hat and outfit, But his glasses speak volumes on his capitol heritage. Psssh. Freaks. Chim makes a huge show of picking the girl tribute, a 14 year old girl named Betty, who bravely pushes back tears and she walks up to the stage, feigning pride. "A fabulous show of bravery, bravo!" chitters Chim. Good lord, I think to myself, is there a single straight capitol dude? He pulls out the small slip of paper, and like every year, I brace myself to hear the words "Mitchell Hughes!" spill from that freak's mouth. And I do. (Author's Note: Yes, Hughes is actually Mitch's last name, and no, I don't know how I know that.) Chapter 87b The Reaping (Jerome's POV) Coming Soon! Cause I'm a Lazy Bacca! I'll also take this time to plug Mitch (TheBajanCanadian) and Jerome's(JeromeASF) youtube channels! They play minecraft survival games and other stuff, and they both rock, and they gave me the inspiration for this story! So go give them a couple views! The sunlight warms my back as I trek back towards the town square, whistling as I easily carry myself towards the nightmares I avoid. Over the years, I've perfected the ability to keep calm in bad situations, or at any time when I'm scared or unsure. It probably would make me lots of friends at school if I bothered to go. Tuition costs money, which isn't that easy to come by. Lord knows my parents don't help me one bit. Taking care of myself is tough, but I manage, living in an old house out in the orchards. It had been untouched for years when I stumbled across it and made it my own. I chuckle, remembering my young self, finding all kinds of canned foods and clothes, there for the taking. It had possibly been the best day of my life. My nostalgic thoughts wash away as I find myself in the enclosed area where the potential tributes stand. I stand as tall as I can, carrying myself with an air of confidence. Some of the other children around me follow my example, as they recognize me as that nice guy from the orchard. I smile inwardly at how I've managed to inspire calmliness in the small kids, one of which might soon me taken to the capitol to be slaughtered. I decide to focus on the positives. I professionaly hold in my laughter as our district escort, Sky or something, introduces all the officials. He really overdid his "outfit" this year. He wears extremely gaudy sunglasses and lets his strangely normal brown hair fall in front of them. He's wearing some sort of combat jumpsuit with a weird gold pendant around his neck. To top off the weirdness, he's got some sort of vintage red shoes on. The other people around me find his appearence just as strange, and flash grins at each other. Sometimes I wonder if they intentionally dress this way to cheer us up before the reaping. The general crap goes on: A speech from the mayor, the capitol propaganda film that everyone rolls their eyes at. Then Sky stands up to pick the girl tribute. "Janet, Brotata!" Sky calls cheerily, and a dumbstruck Janet walks silently up to the stage. She looks about 15, a year younger than me. I frown as I once again contemplate the injustice of it all. I'm so frustrated suddenly that I barely hear my own name be called above the blood rushing to my ears...wait...my name? No... '' I lose all sense of time, and reality as I walk stiffly to the stand. Sky smiles freakishly at me, and I try to give Janet a reassuring glance, though we both know we're in the worst possible position. Mitch's POV after the reaping (Because chapter numbers are for losers) Well...crap. No, big huge meaningful moment runs through my mind. I don't think about, my family or being with them or any dumb stuff like that. All I think is...nothing. I numbly take my place on the stage, numbly see the faces of the children. Being an introvert, no one really knows who I am. No one volunteers. No tears are shed for Mitch. Not that I always imagined people caring about me. I never actually imagined myself being picked. Out of all the people, it's usually someone who would cause a big scene, a popular person who would make for a big television report. Personally I think the capitol would rig some of the drawings every now and then to bring about better ratings. Not this year. I intend to be as boring as possible, make their TV and their news reports suffer, that's the least I can do. I put on an even mouth and turn around, walking back into the justice building before Chim can even finish his talk. I sit down on the couch inside my waiting room, killing time instead of saying my good byes. Besides, who do I even have to say goodbye to any more. I said my goodbyes to them a long time ago. I sit back on the couch, idly fiddling with the pendant around my neck. I sit like this for the entire hour, not even bothering to ponder what's actually happen. I guess I'm denying it a bit too much, but when I think about it, I'd rather avoid the fact that I've been sentenced to an execution. The capitol officials walk back in after what feels like two minutes. I calmly hop to my feet, not even giving a crap anymore. I swagger off, ignoring the cameras, the TV crews, I stride onto the capitol train, walking by our mentor, a young women with short blond hair and a blue shirt on. Jen or Ben or some b.s. I sulk back to my room and throw myself onto the annoyingly comfortable bed. And for the first time in years, my hard exterior slips away and tears run down my face as I contemplate my impending death. Author's Note: Happy chapters eh? Well, having to fight to the death with 23 other teens isn't any picnic. Jerome's Reaping...aftermath or whatever you call it. Jerome's POV (Gee) "Hold on...." I mutter over and over, "What?" I numbly take my place on the stage. I glance out over the crowds, taking it all in. Somehow, I find two huddled figures sobbing in each other's shriveled arms. It's the shell of what used to be my parents, their warm and smiling figures ruined and deformed. This sight of my deteriorating family brings more sadness to my eyes than being picked. No one has won these games in a long time, not from one of the outer districts. I'll probably never see my home again, not the rolling orchards of apple trees, nor feel the joy of working at what I do best. I push back tears and hold my head high, maintaining my calm and strong image. The ceremony finishes and Sky pats us both on the shoulders. I brush him off and strut back into the justice building. They've sentenced me to execution, might as well have some fun before I go. Unbelievably, I actually get a couple of visitors in my hour before I'm taken away. My work team is first, a bunch of guys a lot older than me, holding their hats in their hands, twisting them as they struggle to say goodbye to a teammate. It's difficult for me too, seeing them all hunched over in sadness, after spending years with them at work, every day. They mumble sadly and exit in a single line, gone from what little life I have left. My other visitors are my "parents". They walk in, puke on the floor, and fall asleep on the couch. "Classic mom and dad," I whisper, not trusting my voice that much. Not being able to bear the sight of them, I leave early, hopping on the train and taking my time learning all the way around it. I feel exhausted, so I find my quarters and somehow go to sleep. The Train (Mitch's POV) It feels like weeks before I wake up. The trees scream by the window and small snatches of sunlight spill through the boughs of the oaks. I stretch my arms, taking in the breathtaking view. I've never been on a train before, and it's quite the experience. I walk out into the hallway, feeling the soft skin where I guess I was crying for a long while yesterday. I sulk into the dining room, where I'm greeted by Chim and my mentor. My fellow tribute, Betty, is probably still asleep, as I'd like to be. Chim gestures eagerly to the seat next to him, so I take the one next to my mentor. Chim scoffs and returns to his meal. The woman sneers at Chim and gives me an approving smile. "I'm Jennifer," she says, "call me Jenny." "Mitch," I say, "Call me Mitch" I pick at a muffin, but I don't feel that hungry. Just then the hallway door opens and Betty enters the room, rubbing her bright red eyes. "Rough night?" Jenny says, offering her a seat. "You could say that." Betty mutters, not even bothering to eat. "Alright," I interject, "I hate to break up such lively conversation, but since in about a week the two of us will be fighting 22 other murderous nut jobs, we should probably get down to business." I get two blank stares from the other side of the table, but Jenny just nods sympathetically. "That's true, so, Chim, I know this subject makes you 'uneasy', so you might want to take a little walk?" she says tactfully. Chim nods, standing and exiting quickly. "Alright," Jen continues once he leaves, "Now that that guys gone, let's learn some things about the hunger games" The Other Train (Jerome's POV) I shake myself free of the tangled mass of extremely soft and welcoming sheets. I manage to extricate myself from them without falling back asleep, and I find that I feel strangely alert and ready to start the day. Then I realize where I am, and why I woke up so comfortable and not on a rock hard mattress. I suddenly feel really bad about leaving the covers. Nevertheless, I stand up and stretch my arms above my head. I walk slowly down the ornate hallway, feeling the train speed rapidly towards the capitol beneath my feet. Being accustomed to a very stationary life of little transportation, I feel a bit disoriented. I find my way to the dining car, my stomach doing flip flops. Sky is sitting at the table, generously buttering a roll. (Author's Note: Yeah Yeah Sky and Butter, I had to make the reference at some point) My mentor, some old guy with hardly any hair left is asleep on the table. Janet, my partner, is across the table, sitting next to Sky, obviously very uncomfortable. I give her a grateful look and take my seat, grabbing some sort of exotic fruit and taking a bite out of it. Juice floods my mouth and I discover how good fresh fruit is. I'm about to grab another one when the door swings outward from the other hallway. A young-ish man walks in, with his hair pulled back over his head. "Who's this then?" he says, shoving the old guy onto the floor. "Hello, I'm your mentor, James." I notice that he has a prominent accent, something very rare here in Panem. "Then who's the guy on the floor?" Janet asks uneasily. "Beats me," James chuckles, "Someone who will soon be out of a job?" James dives into histerical laughter at his rather un-funny joke, and I can't help but smile a bit myself, dispite the circumstances. More of the Train, I guess (These chapters bore me too.) Mitch's POV Jen teaches Betty and me some things even I didn't know. Being a bit low on money, I kind of had to fend for myself. I ate whatever found it's way into my yard and had to fight for every day I was alive. Jen teaches us almost perfect fire starting techniques, ways to get all the meat off of different types of animals, and even some natural fruits. All over the breakfast table. "Aren't we supposed to wait until we get to the capitol for training?" I say eventually. "Well, when you think about it," Betty jokes, "Districts 1,2, and 4 train their kids until they're twelve." "True that," Jen replies, "I don't think a conversation about fire starting is something the officials are gonna be picking over. I nod quietly, having a bit of trouble making jokes about these games. "I...uh...I've got something to mull over, do you dudes by any chance mind if I go walk up and down the train?" I mutter. "Oh yeah, go ahead." Betty says dismissively. Jen gives me an understanding look that tells me I didn't fool her and I turn and walk out of the dining car. EVEN MORE OF THIS FRIGGIN' TRAIN! Jerome's POV Throughout the course of the day, James teaches me and Janet lots of things about survival that even I didn't know. He asks us about out distinctive skills that might help. I mention by tree chopping abilities, which I had been commended for multiple times. Janet mentions how agile she is, being able to climb up the tallest trees, along with sharp eyesight. "We should also talk about allies," James says in his distinctive accent, "You're gonna need someone watching your back, because there are no second chances. Once you're down, you're not getting back up." James face takes on a far away look and he begins picking pieces off of his muffin, frowning to himself. Janet and I exhange a glance and decide to leave him to his thoughts. I stroll out to the walkway around the cars, watching the landscape whiz by. (Sorry this took a while to continue, I'm sick as two dogs with...sickness.) Janet joins on the railed in walkway attached to one of the cars. "What do you think James was talking about back there? He seemed pretty wistful." She inquires. "Probably an ally of his, went down and never got back up. Most likely a friend of his, someone close." I murmur. "Nonetheless it was weird. One minute he's making those really bad jokes and the next he looks on the verge of tears, do you think he's, ya know, okay?" Janet asks, skirting the obvious answer. "Of course he isn't. All the victors have something screwed up with them. Some are druggies, some are just freaks." I say, taking in the lush landscape around me. "I think we may have gotten one of the latter," Janet jokes, trying to lighten the dark mood, "How did that guy even become a victor in the first place?" "It wasn't easy, I'll tell you that," says a voice behind us. We both start and turn to see the british-sounding victor leaning against the door frame. "It was mind-bogglingly terrifying out there. There were 23 other people in there that wanted to kill me, that kind of thing gets to you. Not that they would kill you, but that you would kill them. 23 children, and I killed 5 of them. I still remember their names, each one of them. Every night, I see their faces, watch the life leave their eyes, hundreds of times I relive those moments." There's a long pause once he's done talking were Janet and I can do nothing but be embarassed. "So yes, Ms. Brotata," James says shortly, "You did get one of the 'latter'. Whenever you accept that this is the future that awaits you, I shall be in my quarters. Good day." And with that, he leaves without so much as a sound. "Holy crap Janet, d'you realize that you've just ticked off our own MENTOR?!" I scream at her. "Me?! I think the bloods on both our hands here Jerome." "Well our blood is gonna be all over the ground once the games start, I bet right now he's thinking of ways he can get us killed in there! We've sufficently screwed ourselves." I say quickly, "We've lost the hunger games." Before me and Janet can think of an apology for James, the train jerks into the station in the capitol. We stand by the door, and James stands stiffly behind us. Sky runs up to us and adjusts our outfits. "Smile nice and big for the cameras!" he squeals, standing next to James. "Here we go." Janet mumbles to me, and the doors slide open as we step out into the Capitol. Chapter...Hopefully we'll get finished with this train! Mitch's POV! I sit in the middle of an open air cart, watching the clouds streak by above me, contemplating my life. Just then I hear soft footsteps approaching and Jenny sits down beside me. "Thinking hard about something?" "How'd you know?" I say quietly, still a bit transfixed on the sky. "Because it's places like these where I go to do my thinking." She says empatheticly. "It's quiet, and the clouds are pretty comforting aren't they? It's like, everything is so hard to deal with, and the clouds are all soft and easy to deal with. Not at all like reality." "Yeah...they kinda are." I say thoughtfully. Still not really paying attention. "How are you holding up?" Jenny says. "Oh, I'm doing just...peachy. Everything's just...AWESOME." I smirk sarcastically. "I was just like you before the games. I've gotta be honest Mitchell-" "Mitch." "Sorry," she says, rolling here eyes jokingly, "You've got quite the chance. I think, from what I've seen of the reapings, you make the right allies and you've got this." "Don't give me false hope," I spit, "I'm not coming out of that arena, even if I win the games. Part of me has been sentenced to death, and nothing's gonna stop that. Every victor has turned to something to get away from the nightmares. I won't be able to handle that." "I could." she says, "And I think you can too. We're a lot alike, ''Mitchell, I think you've got a real strength about you. I think the odds are in your favor." *** Jen leaves me to contemplate my thoughts, but instead I mull over her words. They really stick with me. Could I actually win the hunger games? These hopeful thoughts distract me and I don't even realize it when we pull into the capitol station about 3 hours later. I rush up to the disembarking platform and take my place beside Betty. "Let the games begin." Jen says. And the door slides open. Jerome's POV (We've got to design some faaaabulous costumes now!) Cameras flash and people shout and cheer for us. Janet and I do our best to smile and wave, while Sky hurries us along towards a big building made up solely of windows. Strange architecture here. Sky takes us into the lobby, where Janet and I get seperated almost immediately whisked away down two different staircases. When I arrive downstairs three people tear off my clothes almost immediately and set to work pruning me. Author's Note: No, I'm not describing this scene. It's simply not happening. Almost an hour later, I've been pricked and plucked so many times I'm sore all over and feeling quite violated. A capitol person walks into the room, some weird hybrid between a male and female to where I can't even point out their gender. I decide with female because they're wearing a green and brown dress...thing that's supposed to look like a tree. She(?) walks around me, inspecting me from all angles, creasing her brow and taking in all the "details" The...person sits on a bench across from me and tosses me a robe. "Couldn't have that 10 minutes ago?" I ask, sliding it on and tightening it. "Yes." she says in a decidingly feminine voice. "But it's my job to see just what shape my tribute is in. And what I can do with them. It's obvious I don't have much to work with this year." "Your honesty is refreshing." I say angrily. "It's the truth, you have been startlingly malnourished and weak. You are strong of arm but of nothing else. I'm afraid I might have some trouble making you desirable for the Gamemakers." She says sternly. "Thank you." I say sarcastically. "You're welcome, it's so difficult to find honesty around this place anymore." she says. "No if you don't mind, I must go think up your costume, go meet up with your escort and friend, I'll get back with you later. Goodbye." And with that she struts out of the room. Leaving me sitting there, not even sure what the heck just happened. "Well that was helpful." So...These pre-game chapters suck. IS NOW TIME FOR BLOODSHED! Oh...and it's Mitch's POV. The tube rises slowly into the arena. My stylist decided not to come say good luck, but I hadn't expected her to. My mentor, Jen, hadn't been allowed in. She's probably in the capitol, working her head off trying to get me and Betty sponsors. Granted, we both did relatively well in our interviews and got good scores in the training arena (I recieved a 10; Betty got an 8). Still, it costs money to sponsor a tribute. A lot of it. Of course, the capitol blue-bloods have that money. The tube slowly drops away and I'm standing in the open air. The arena astounds me. 23 other teens and I stand around what I think is the cornucopia. A good number of closed boxes sit around a white spire with a flag on top of it. I glance around and see what we're surrounded by. Massive white walls reach towards the sky, encircling us. Rows of seats fill the space, and the name of the building appears in my mind. It's a ancient roman coliseum. The time counts down. 60 seconds. '' I ready myself. To my right is Betty, and to my left is the district 2 male. Most of the D2 tributes I've seen before have been brutish, ginormous killing machines, but this one is about my size. He gazes intently on one of the chests in the center, obviously planning to take it. I don't plan to let him. I wonder to myself why there are boxes instead of random objects spread across the ground. They must be trying to make us run for a target without telling us what we're going to get. Anything could be in there. Medicine, food, armor, weapons. ''30 seconds. Time slows down. I focus all my thoughts on a box that's close to me. I look at the ring of tributes. The district 7 male, Jayreem or something, crouches down, ready to spring forward. He'd made himself quite the target, especially after demonstrating his axe skills for the gamemakers. He scored a ten, an extremely high score for an outlying district. Most of the careers are close to each other, and I find myself feeling nervous. There isn't a doubt in my mind they could tear me to bits with no weapons but their fists. 20 seconds. They had approached me during training, asking if I would join up with them, and I said I'd consider it, even though I had no intention of doing so. You could cut the tension with a knife as we all tighten our muscles, focus on the chests, and listen intently to the sound of the countdown. 10 seconds. 9. 8. '' ''7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1. The gong sounds and we run. Chapter something: The Bloodbath (Jerome's POV) 24 peopke bolt off their pedestals and dash towards the center. I was never the fastest guy in the district, but neither were the people next to me, so I reach a chest at the middle first. I unlatch it as quickly as possible and throw the lid open. Inside I find two apples, a piece of leather, some flint and...I gasp as I see what's at the bottom. A stone woodcutting axe, sharp as could be is at the bottom of the chest. I heave it out by the handle and turn to the tribute running towards me. As if he's a very deadly and fast tree, I swing the axe at his midriff, and before he has time to react, the axe penetrates his gut and blood gushes everywhere. I uppercut his face as I run by him to the outside of the coliseum. He falls on the ground, blood pouring from what used to be his face, and I know in my heart that I just killed my first tribute. I rush towards the exit, where I'm joined by Janet, who is covered with blood and holding a small iron dagger. "Well come on then!" I shout over the horrible sounds of people dying in the headlong rush for supplies, "Let's go win the hunger games!" The two of us run towards one of the arched exits along the outer edge of the coliseum, and find ourselves in bright green meadow. "Pretty," I remark sarcastically, "You get any good supplies in there?" "Just this dagger and a piece of uncooked chicken," she says, pointing to the improvised sack strapped to her back. "I got some leather, an apple and this axe," I say, shrugging. The raw chicken could end up making us sick, and an apple won't last long. It really is the hunger games. "Keep an eye out for any more of those boxes, they might be scattered all over the place." Just as I'm saying this, my feet sink into a hole covered with leaves and almost break the top of one of the chests. "You okay?" Janet asks, chuckling at my clumsiness. I nod and open up the box. Inside are some pants that appear to be made out of some sort of chain mail. "Looks like lingerie" I joke, remembering the rather revealing outfits some of the women in my district wore to attract money. "Stop joking around," she says, ineffectively containing a smile, "and check if there's anything else in there." I glance down into the box, finding nothing. "Nope, nothing," I say, sliding the "lingerie" onto my legs. "This'll definetely protect me. Oh yeah." Janet laughs (I imagine I look pretty dumb in these) and says, "Come on, let's keep going. I wanna get out of this place as soon as possible." Chapter Bloodbath 2 (Mitch's POV) (Sorry it's late) Boom. The gong sounds like a gunshot and I dash towards the center, sprinting and jumping with every step I take to increase my speed. In no time at all I'm at the center and throw open a chest. Inside is a slab of raw meat that may or may not be pork, an iron ingot (Gee, how helpful) and a leather vest. Not much of anything that I can use. The tribute next to me opens another chest and I punch him solidly in the face. He falls over quite quickly and I inspect his chest. The box...not his...nevermind. Inside I see the most beautiful thing ever: a sword. Granted, it's solid gold, meaning it would bend if I looked at it wrong, but it was devilishly sharp. I plunge the point of the sword into the unconsious boy next to me without much forethought. Did I just...? Oh dear lord what did I just do? I just killed an innocent human being, just because I wanted him out of the way. Suprisingly, I don't feel any remorse for this dead boy who would've done the exact same thing to me. I dig around and find some leather boots in the chest. Good, that'll provide valuable protection from whatever terrain is outside. I'm slipping them on when I hear Betty screaming. I turn around and see the district 2 male tribute, the one with the cunning gleam in his eye, holding Betty in a headlock, an incredibly sharp looking iron sword to her chin. "Put her down...uh" I say, forgetting his name. "Aww, do you want me to let your little girlfriend go? No. Not happening." he says in a miserably kidding voice, "It's Jordan by the way, don't forget it." "How about a compromise?" I blurt, "I don't see any food on you; you'll starve to death pretty quick in these games. I have food. You have my district partner. Trade?" Jordan contemplates this. Scratching his somewhat poofy hair with his sword hand. "Mmmmaybe. I'll take that pork off ya for your girl, sure, but next time we see each other..." He draws his finger across his throat, and I get the message. There'll be no alliance here. "I'll toss you the food and you let her go, kapeesh?" I say uncertainly. "Sure thing," he says, lowering his sword. I lightly throw him the pork chop, and he releases his hold on Betty's neck and catches it in mid air. "Pleasure working with you." And before I can even take a step towards my teammate, he deftly swings his sword at her neck. She doesn't even know what's happening before her head leaves her body and the light drains from her eyes. Jordan scoffs and me and stalks down one of the tunnels while I try to take in the dead body of my district partner. Exploring the Arena (JAYREEM's POV) (That's Jerome, btw) Janet and I trudge along under the harsh sun that watches us intently. We see a few trees in the distance, and what might be a lake, but knowing the game makers and their tricks, we decide not to head towards it yet. The metal pants don't make things any easier for me, the metal almost boiling against my skin. I should take them off before I blister, but they just might save my life at any moment. We don't find any more boxes of loot, but we split an apple we find on a tree, after we make sure it's safe, of course. It's a good thing we took the botanical lessons in training or we might end up eating berries we thought were safe but ended up being horribly poisonous, like that poor District 12 fellow from a few years back. After a few more minutes of walking, we come across a spring of water. "Oh thank heavens, I'm parched," Janet says, leaning down to drink. Part of me aches to say that it could be poisoned, but thirst almost overcomes me before I see a tint of something in the water. Something almost green. I dip a finger into the water and taste a drop. I almost throw up from the taste alone. It's poisoned. Strongly. "JANET STOP!" I yell, louder than I should, and push her hands, cupping the water, away from her face. She stutters, obviously a bit shocked at my outburst, gasping and red-faced. "What...The heck Jerome?" She breathes. "You could've just said, 'Oh hey Janet don't drink the water!'?" "Well. You were about to drink and I had to be a bit quick about it," I say, regretting my actions. I regret them even more when another tribute rushes through the underbrush, attracted by the sound of our voices. A dart travels from the bushes next to him and impales Janet's thigh. "Run," I say without thinking. We jump up, but the male tribute cuts open our backpacks, leaving us with nothing but my axe, and we run for our lives. Bloodbath Aftermath (Mitch's POV) "B-Betty?" I mutter, over and over again, staring at my friend's body, the blood from her neck staining the sand beneath my knees. The gold sword clatters to the ground, already slightly bent. I steel myself and brush a tear off my face, picking up my gear around me. Amazingly, no one else has decided to attack me. I pick up the leather vest I found, storing the raw meat in one pocket and the iron ingot in the other. I take one last look at Betty's body and silently say goodbye. Then an arrow flies straight past my shoulder and into the ground. A tribute stands up in the seating area of the coliseum, loading another arrow into his bow. I don't bother to check any of the other chests before darting out through one of the exits. I walk outside into brilliant sunlight. I shield my eyes as I begin to trek towars what appears to be a large village. Of course it's uninhabited, but a large landmark like that might just contain some good loot, maybe a better weapon or armor. Then another problem hits me: Food. I have a piece of raw beef. That's it. Starvation isn't that far off and eating the meat would only give me salmonella. I walk into the town, keeping close to the stark white walls of the splayed apart buildings in the village. Then I spot what appears to be a tribute in one of the houses, inspecting a chest. I rush forward as quietly as possible and slip inside the house. The tribute, a female from some district I don't remember, forgot to close the door to the house and is too busy looting around in the chest to notice me. Guilt grips me, but I know I can't let a tribute live, because they might just be the one to kill me. I pull back my sword arm and stab the gilded blade straight through her back. Horrible redness seeps into the fabric of her shirt and she falls to the ground before she can even cry out in horror. I throw the body to the side, focusing on the chest instead. Inside is a smashed up cookie, a half-loaf of somewhat stale bread and a sword that appears to be crafted out of sharpened rocks. Not exactly perfect, but it's better than what I have now. I drop the bloodied sword and pick up the stone one. It strikes me that I could ration my food and actually fight my way out of these games. "I'm gonna win...for Betty," I say, and exit the house and dive into the unknown forest.